


Culture Clash

by trollmela



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15694143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollmela/pseuds/trollmela
Summary: Ferretti liked to imagine that if the local populations knew how much of a headache fertility rituals were for him, they wouldn’t invite his team to participate. But they had never had to write the subsequent report, or keep the awkward bits out of conversation, or initiate a new team member to the strangeness of other worlds. Why did this shit never happen to SG-1?





	Culture Clash

**Author's Note:**

> The fertility ritual in question is very tame, namely jerking off in a field. No specific made-up sex ritual was the point of the story here but rather the question: if, as in fandom, SG-1 gets into situations where they have to take part in a sex ritual, wouldn't the other SG teams as well? And how do you talk about that with your fellows if you can't talk about it openly?

“Did you catch the game last night?”

“Yes, the-“

“Don’t spoil it for me!”

O’Neill chucked a peanut at him. “Then why are you asking?”

SG3 got back earlier in the afternoon, but Ferretti had taped the game and was counting on watching it tomorrow, his day off base.

“I saw your new Major Tom earlier.” O’Neill picked another topic. And he just had to do it. He had to hum.

Ferretti chucked the peanut back. “He’s gonna punch you in the face one day for humming that song every damn time.” He shook his head, staring into the black pits of his glass. “Obscure German disco, seriously!”

Jack’s grin disappeared behind the rim of his beer as he took a sip. He didn’t go for the dark stuff often, but this one was good. A new creation by one of the local craft breweries, the bar keep had said. Lt. Johnson had raved about it in the mess.

“He can try,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t be the first one. But seriously, he was looking uncomfortable.”

Ferretti glanced at the tv behind the bar where some basketball match was playing.

“Today just wasn’t the best mission for him.”

“I thought it was routine? No altercations, friendly locals…”

“It was. But, you know, some worlds take some taking used to.”

Jack didn’t look like he believed him. Ferretti’s 2IC had said it the day before: “Why does this shit never happen to SG1?”

Abruptly, Jack took his glass and took it to a booth in the back. Ferretti followed.

“It was 247 wasn’t it? The one with the Hawaiian skirts?”

Ferretti chuckled. Jack had an unapologetic way of getting straight to the memorable stuff.

“Yeah, that one.”

“So. Friendly people, right?”

“Oh definitely.”

“What freaked him out then?”

“You know how it can be with local customs.” Or maybe O’Neill really didn’t. Maybe SG3 were the only ones this stuff happened to.

But Jack nodded. “Perpetual culture shock.”

Ferretti sipped at his beer. “Exactly.”

Jack was still looking at him like he wanted to read his mind.

“He gonna be okay?”

“I think so.”

He seriously hoped so, too.

Jack cocked his head. “He got forced to do anything… unusual?”

“No. We… eh … kept him away from any rituals.” Ferretti shrugged. “But he isn’t stupid. Saw some stuff. Drew his own conclusions.”

Jack groaned. “It was harvesting time, wasn’t it?” He cursed. “Forgot about that.”

Ferretti could feel his heart beating double time. So Jack knew about this.

“Did you guys…?”

Jack shrugged and watched him while Ferretti watered his suddenly parched throat and drank for courage.

“You know how it is. Can’t always get out of those damn fertility rituals. Especially if you don’t want to offend the few friendly locals you get to meet who have the stuff Washington wants.”

And perhaps there were worse things Jack could think of doing, just like Ferretti. Sowing oats a bit more literally than usual was okay by their standards.

Jack wetted his lips. “If you want me to talk to your Major-“

Ferretti nodded gratefully. “I’ll let you know.”

“No need for this stuff to get … blown out of proportion.” Jack added.

He agreed. Nothing like getting caught up in a court martial for fraternization. Or worse.

**Author's Note:**

> The German disco song mentioned is "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling. There's an English and a German version of it. It's possible that after his captivity, Jack would have been flown to Ramstein / the Landstuhl military hospital in Germany to recover, where he could have heard it.


End file.
